


Renegades

by hazel_3017



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 21:58:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4851986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazel_3017/pseuds/hazel_3017
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sidney just needs a little break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Renegades

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.

Sidney steps out of the airport and has to fight against the immediate urge to turn on his heel and march right back in. He’s here for a reason, and damned if he’s not going to do it.

He’s a Crosby and Crosbys are doers. That’s what he’s been told all his life anyway.

“You Norrh American?”

Sidney startles at the derisive voice, looking up, and up, to meet the hard eyes of a stranger. A beast of a man, really. Jesus, Sidney thinks absently. They don’t make ‘em like that back home.

“I am. Canadian.”

The man snorts. “Figures. You have that look about you.” He takes a step forward, reaching out to grab Sidney’s bag off of his shoulder and slinging it over his own so smoothly Sidney doesn’t even have time to protest before he’s being ushered away from the airport exit and towards a small, beat up Volkswagen.

“Come on, then,” the man says, just the barest trace of an accent betraying his nationality. “You in Russia now, kid. Good looking boy like you will be eaten alive. Tell Yuri where you’re going; I will take care of you.”

Yuri, or so Sidney presumes, throws his bag in the back of the car before opening the door to the passenger seat, looking at him pointedly.

With the same bravado and gut feeling that had possessed him to run away for the summer and step on a plane that would take him halfway across the world, Sidney looks Yuri up and down before deciding the man is probably not a serial killer.

He steps into the car with a sharp nod of his head, trying to appear a little older and far more confident than he is.

Yuri snorts again. He slams the door shut and walks briskly around the car. 

Watching him force his way into the driver’s seat is a spectacle in itself. Sidney stares, eyes growing wide at the way Yuri hunches his shoulders, his knees pulled up almost to his chest to make room for his long legs.

Why the hell the man is driving around in a little Beetle is beyond him, but he thinks better of asking when Yuri sends him a quick glare as he starts up the engine, just daring Sidney to comment.

“So,” Yuri says, and then stops to curse viciously in Russian when a car cuts him off from the left. He slams one hand on the horn, the other lifting to offer the driver a rude gesture.

Sidney’s eyes grow even wider.

“Where am I taking you. Not many Americans in Magnitogorsk.”

“Canadian,” Sidney corrects, and then adds, “I’m visiting a friend.”

Yuri spares him a glance. “This friend have an address?”

“Of course,” Sidney says.

“You don’t know it!” Yuri accuses after a few seconds when Sidney says nothing else. He slows the car to a stop at the side of the road. “This friend know you’re coming?”

“Of course!” Sidney says again, bristling. Well. Sort of. In an abstract kind of way. He sighs. “Not really,” he confesses. He sets his jaw stubbornly, preparing for a fight. It’s become a habit. He’s been doing it a lot lately.

Yuri looks at him for a moment, long and hard. Finally, he says, “Your business is your own. What is your friend’s name? Magnitogorsk is not that big; I guarantee I know someone who knows someone who knows him.”

Sidney blinks at him. He’s a little taken aback without being sure why. “Evgeni Malkin,” he says. He winces a little at his poor pronunciation. “Zhenya. We met earlier this summer.”

“Evgeni Malkin,” Yuri says flatly. “The hockey player.”

“You know him?”

“This is Magnitogorsk,” Yuri says, as if it explains how he would know Zhenya, which, when Sidney thinks about, actually makes a lot of sense. 

It’s like Yuri said, Magnitogorsk isn’t all that big, not really. And well, Zhenya is really very good.

“I will take you to the rink where Metallurg practice. Don’t know if he’ll be there, but is good start, yes?”

Sidney nods readily. “Yes! Thank you.” 

Yuri grumbles under his breath, but other than a few comments about brash teenagers says not much else, and has them outside the large Arena in twenty minutes.

“I can probably find my way from here?”

It comes out more as a question even though it’s late July and Sidney knows the KHL teams have already started training camp. He probably could handle things from there, but Yuri is rolling his eyes at him. “Come,” he says. “We will find someone who knows this friend of yours.”

He exits the car after only a mild struggle to get out of the seat, and Sidney, after reaching back for his bag, hurries out after him.

He’s not really expecting to find Zhenya at the arena, but in what must be the biggest coincidence of his life, Sidney hears, “Sid? Is you? You really here?”

Sidney spins on his heel. He drops his bag to the ground and sprints across the parking lot.

Zhenya meets him halfway.

“Sid!” Zhenya laughs incredulously when they slam into each other.

Sidney settles his arms around Zhenya, gripping the back of his shirt tightly.

“I should have called,” he mumbles against Zhenya’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I just, I didn’t really plan this in advance, I just jumped the first flight out and–”

“Sid,” Zhenya cuts him off. He pulls away gently, reaching up to cup Sidney’s face. “You here,” he says, as if he can’t quite believe it even though Sidney is standing right in front of him. “Why not tell me you come? I pick up from airport.”

From somewhere behind them, Yuri coughs obnoxiously. He says, “So friend is boyfriend?”

“Who are you?” Zhenya demands before Sidney can answer. He pushes Sidney to the side, moving to stand before him as if to shield him from Yuri’s eyes. Yuri who must be four inches taller than even Zhenya. At least.

Yuri snorts, lifting a brow at Sidney. 

He doesn’t say it, but Sidney gets the impression he’s not really impressed by his  _friend_.

Sidney blushes. “This is Yuri, Zhenya. He drove me here from the airport. He’s been really, uhm, nice.”

Zhenya’s brows shoot up. He looks from Yuri to Sidney to the beat up Beetle Sidney points at. “You take  _pirate taxi_?”

And it’s not like Sidney hasn’t been aware, but–

“Yuri has been very nice,” he says firmly, because he’s not fighting about this.

Zhenya looks like he wants to argue, but Yuri seems to have lost patience with both of them. “Taxi is taxi,” he says. “I got you here in one piece. That will be 4,500 rubles, please.”

“4,500!” Zhenya explodes, but Sidney is already fishing the money out of his wallet, glad he thought to stop at an ATM before exiting the airport.

“Much appreciated,” Yuri says, for the first time looking a little cheerful as he accepts the money.

Sidney nods at him. The price was more than a little steep, but Yuri had gotten him there in once piece, and he had been good to him.

“Thank you.”

Yuri nods, and with a two fingered salute Zhenya’s way, takes his leave. He never even asked for Sidney’s name.

“Who–?” Zhenya starts, but stops, maybe deciding it isn’t important. He shakes his head and turns to Sidney.

“Can’t believe you here,” he says, reaching out to pull Sidney to him, and Sidney is so relieved, so glad that Zhenya appears happy to see him.

They met at Zhenya’s draft earlier that summer. Sidney had been there because it was a big event and the NHL is getting more and more eager to parade him out for the fans and media, to let his name and legend grow – never mind that Sidney isn’t even playing in the NHL yet. Isn’t even  _drafted_.

So they met in Raleigh, and they spent a weekend fooling around, spending every minute with each other when their respective schedules permitted it, and at the end, on the last day, Zhenya said, “If you’re ever in Russia.”

It wasn't really an invitation, but they’d exchanged numbers and emails and kept in constant contact since then, and Sidney needs a break. He needed to get away from the circus that is his life now, just for a few days.

There was no place else he wanted to go.

“Can I?” Zhenya asks softly. He’s leaning in, giving Sidney all the time in the world to deny him before kissing him gently, and then more firmly when Sidney does little more than moan and pull him closer.

He’s missed him so much.

“Can I stay for a few days?” he asks when they break apart. “I know it’s sudden, and I can’t stay long anyway.” He’s only sixteen, seventeen in a few days, and as soon as he calls to let his parents know he’s in Russia instead of Minnesota with Jack like he said he would be, there will be hell to pay, but–

“Just for a few days?”

Zhenya smiles at him, bright and happy. He leans in for another kiss.

“Of course. As long as you need.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10573092) by [dragons_and_angels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragons_and_angels/pseuds/dragons_and_angels)




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